


Fight Me! (Do Not.)

by captivatingcapybaras



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark Harry Potter, Dumbledore Bashing, F/M, Fluff, Happy Harry, M/M, Ron Bashing, Ron's an asshole, Voldie loves Harry so much, i love these two boys, rescued from durselys, tomarry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 19:53:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18037829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captivatingcapybaras/pseuds/captivatingcapybaras
Summary: Inspired by the writing prompt:Person A: *clenching fists* fight me!Person B, standing behind them softly shaking his head, sword in hand: do not.-Harry was rescued from the Dursely's very early on... and instead of the weapon Albus wanted, he grew to be the formidable consort to the great Dark Lord. One day, Harry desperately wants to help in one of the interrogations- and who is Tom to deny his love anything?





	Fight Me! (Do Not.)

The Harry that had been raised in a loving and safe environment was much different than the Harry that Albus had designed. Raised by a supporting cast of surprisingly gentle death eaters, he flourished in a loving environment.

~

Lucius and Severus worked tirelessly after their Lord’s fall to recover his wraith form- and when they did, the spirit informed them of a _pull_ , a _visceral need_ to go to a muggle neighborhood, and collect something for him. While Voldemort’s most trusted advisors and confidants did so with no restraints, they were very much so curious as to what they could possibly be needed to retrieve; in a suburb of muggle London of all places! However, upon apparition to the stuffy street, lined with houses that all shouted their conformity and superiority over their neighbor’s, they felt a wave of magic. Even for those not finely entuned to the feel of such a raw power, there was assuredly something in the air. Lucius and Severus were pulled towards the power, meteors pulled into the gravitational orbit of a planet.

As they approached the door, walking along the front lawn that was quite frankly _too green_ (and that was coming from Slytherins!) the overcast sky lended a shadow to their walk, casting the world in light washes of grey. At Lucius’ light rasp on the door, they heard a shrill call of “ _Vernon! Door, dear! I’m busy with Dudders!”_ followed by the heavy footfalls of (presumably) an adolescent rhinoceros.

In lieu of the pachyderm, a large man opened the door halfway, beady eyes observing them from the inset of his chubby cheeks. “We don’t want whatever you are selling. Off with you now, lads.” He grunted, attempting to close the door, but was stopped in his efforts by the darker-haired of the two men swiftly placing his foot in the door way.

“We are not selling anything… _Vernon_. However, we do have an item in need of retrieval.”

The fattened cheek muscles pulled up, squinting the beetle-like eyes even further into slits. Before the man responded, a woman juxtaposed to his figure in every way appeared to peek over his shoulder, the top of a slim face seen.

She lightly pushed her husband out of the way, gasping as she did so. Frail and lanky, clutching a large toddler to her side, she gasped at the man whose foot was still settled in her entryway.

“ _You?!”_ she hissed so sharply, any parselmouth would have been begrudgingly impressed.

“Why, hello to you too, ‘Tuney. I would say long time no see, but truly no time would be long enough to constitute a want to revisit your presence.”

“ _Get inside! Before the neighbors see you two!”_ She yanked the door open enough to let the two aristocratic men in, who walked straight past the flabbergasted Vernon. Petunia craned her long neck outside the doorway, looking up and down the street and across to assure no neighbors were putting their rhinoplasties where they didn’t belong.

She rounded on the two men as soon as the door was shut completely. “What on earth are you doing here? I told that damn crackpot that we wanted nothi-“

“’Tuney, pardon our intrusion to your… _obviously_ idyllic life. However, there is in fact a reason for our visit, as this is not a social call despite my dearest hope being to have seen you again.” Severus’ tonal patterns and his sharp pauses had only grown in ferocity as he aged, his tongue sharpening as his body lengthened.

Petunias face scrunched up; the greasy _boy_ who had made her feel inferior her entire childhood, who always teased her, who fueled and prodded the flames of jealousy against her sister came into her own house, and insulted her?! The audacity.

“Listen, Snape. I do not want you here. I do not want your kind here. You are unwelcome, much more so than you ever were in my life as a child, and I _truly_ despised you then. I am happily married with a darling child, and if you think you can march in here and muck it up with your freakiness, I can-“

“Oh Merlin, Petunia, you truly have not lost any of your endearing qualities, have you. Your husband is a decidedly… _lucky_ man. As I will repeat again due to your seeming hearing impairment, I have an item to retrieve. Perhaps if you would like us out of your mousy hair, you could assist in it’s retrieval.” His thin lips pulled over his slightly yellowed teeth, showcasing a lifelong-perfected sneer.

Vernon was watching the interaction of harsh words being thrown back and forth like the Wimbledon Cup, his unintelligent eyes rushing between his wife and the tall man. Occasionally he would glance at the paler man, who had remained entirely silent thus far and as such Vernon dismissed him as harmless.

“What do you _want,_ Snape?”

Severus turned to his companion, a questioning look on his features. While he did enjoy the rapport of mutual hatred with Petunia, they truly were unaware of the true purpose of their mission. Their Lord had been wholly unhelpful in the identification of the 'object' they were meant to collect.

Lucius raised a perfectly manicured brow, and with a slight shake of his head decided to end his lapse of silence. “We require to search your house for a few moments, in order to determine the placement of our object.”

At her wit's end, and emotionally fraying from the turbulence of seeing her childhood enemy after all the years, Petunia waved her hand that wasn’t supporting Dudley’s sleeping body, clearly in a dismissive gesture.

Severus and Lucius turned, walking back to the doorway. The two men closed their eyes, attempting to feel out for the pull again, letting their magic snake throughout the house, looking for pushback from other magical auras.

 As their magic transversed up the stairs, filling the living room, the kitchen, every part of the house, the smallest, inquisitive push came from too far away from their current location. Severus' right brow lifted, and Lucius walked to where the faint feeling was coming from. The two men walked to into the hall and past the staircase until they stood in front of the under-stairs cupboard.

Behind them, Petunia sucked in a sharp gasp of air, piecing together what the two wizards were searching for. She didn’t dare speak, her voice curled up in fear in her throat as Severus’ pale hand reached towards the cupboard door, twisting the handle apprehensively.

~

Peals of high pitched laughter rang through the manner as Harry Potter ran from his current babysitter- and his personal favorite- Bellatrix Lestrange.

“Where are you, dear boy?” She crooned loudly, crazed eyes darting around the large living room she had followed her charge into.

The young Potter heir had been living in Malfoy Manor for four years now, and had largely forgotten the horror he had lived for his time with his aunt and uncle. His relatives were _also_  in the manor- just far below, in the depths of the dungeons. (Snape particularly liked using Vernon for potion's research... _especially_ in finding potential side effects.)  

Dudley had been placed into the care of a squib couple who’s political interests fell into line with that of the Dark Lord. Dudley was cared for deeply; the couple had been incapable of procreating on their own, and kept Dudley (Now renamed to Theodore, a wholly better name all around) in the dark about his cousin who he had forgotten long ago thanks to a powerful _obliviate_.

Bellatrix exaggerated her behavior, hunching her back and taking large, comical steps around the living room. “Oh, Harry-dearest! Where are you?”

There was a soft giggle that emanated from the heavy curtains that masked one of the large windows behind the piano. At the very bottom of the lengths of fabric were two small feet that poked out from the pleats.

Bellatrix smiled large, her sharp teeth pushing her thin lips apart. She began her slow predatory walk towards the curtain, and just prior to her pulling the fabric away and revealing Harry, a burst of black hair and fast limbs ran past her, into another wing of the manor, his laughter floating back to Bellatrix as he ran.

~

“Tom?”

Harry was sixteen, lounging in the study of the Dark Lord- a habit that he had picked up years ago, and one that Tom had no interest in breaking.

“Hmm?” Tom was focused intently on the papers in front of him, reading over the financial reports of the newest ad campaign for a new bill the Dark side was promoting.

Harry looked over to the Dark Lord, craning his neck from his position on the couch in the study where he had been reading a book on Dark Runes.

“Do you think… maybe one day, I could help you?”

Tom’s dark merlot eyes flicked up from the figures to stare at Harry Potter. No longer the abused babe whom he had been presented with over a decade ago, nor the sweet and innocent childe who had even his most powerful and fear-inducing followers wrapped around his finger. (Though, Severus and the boy still had a standing ice-cream date every other Tuesday. Harry and Severus both shared a passion for the Butter-Pecan from Fortescue’s.)

“Whatever do you mean, Hadrian? You help me daily by providing your input on our quests to overtake this world; you have invaluable insight into the interworking’s of politics and strategy. You help me by being the one to speak with me when I am angered beyond reason. You help me constantly, dear Hadrian.”

Harry blushed at the repeated use of his magical name and the kind words that Tom spoke.

“I didn’t mean like that.” Harry muttered softly, then smiled at Tom as he rose from the couch with a comment about going to do some flying.

~

Harry Potter was now twenty years old; the Dark Lord’s consort officially for a year and a half, he was Tom’s entire world. Well, at least the portion of Tom’s world he had no intention of conquering.

Harry had gone to school at Beuxbatons with young Draco, and they had both graduated top of the class; the first time there had been a shared first-spot in Beuxbatons history. 

Draco was training for his healer’s license, and was a high-ranking and integral member to the Dark Lord’s side of the war. 

However, with Harry’s guidance, this war was much less physical and violent than the first- moreso this war was fought in debates in the Wizengamot, battles consisting of bills forced through to support the Dark side's ideas, the death tally wasn't only bodies; instead, reputations died from the disparaging reports published in the Prophet. 

With the new tactics of an intellectual guerilla battle, the Dark had shifted to the political majority over the years. A multitude of unmarked followers inhabited all areas of the ministry, and Lucius was currently running for Minister.

Harry was a warding and runes Master. He was the youngest wizard to be awarded his warding Masters in Britain’s history, and the third youngest for Runes. His ability to weave the two magics together formed the most powerful barriers Tom had ever seen, and Harry was consistently utilized in their war efforts.

In recent years, the war _had_ begun to pick up in its violence. The Light side was getting desperate, and had begun attempting kidnappings of high-ranked politicians, suspected Dark-sympathizers, and even mid-level Death Eaters.

Currently, Harry was warding an old warehouse for his fiancé and the Inner Circle to use for their own interrogations against the light side’s cronies. With Harry’s novel wards, there was no wizard alive who could dismantle them quick enough to sneak up on their activities; they were untouchable inside Harry’s magic.

“Tom?”

“Yes, darling?”

“May I please help with this interrogation?”

Tom came over to where his darling stood; Harry never had grown too much in the height department, standing short at 5’ 4’’; quite the alternative to his own 6’ 3’’ frame. He wrapped Harry in his arms, placing his head atop of Harry’s, folding the younger into his body.

“You help with every interrogation, beloved. When we are within your wards, when you-“

Harry pulled back, emerald eyes blazing with a new emotion Tom wasn’t familiar with. “Tom, I don’t mean like that. I want to help… _during_ the interrogation.”

Tom blinked dumbly at that. His sweet boy wanted to be there, to witness the vile acts that his Death Eaters and himself had to perform as a part of war?

“Harry, it isn’t a safe place, there is so mu-“

“Please, Tom? I really want to. We both know I am powerful enough to hold my own. Please? You all always get to be such an active part of our efforts, what if I want to help, too?”

He had pushed back from Tom’s body at this point, staring defiantly up at the Dark Lord in a manner no other living creature dared to do.

Tom surveyed his soul; standing with such a strong yet short stature. Fists clenched at his sides, his black hair brushing against his shoulders, framing the effeminate face. He looked much more likely to hug someone, perhaps offer some kind words, than he was to hurt anything. 

Harry looked unassuming, unthreatening. But damn, if the idea of his beloved hurting one of their enemy’s, carving into their skin didn’t make Tom feel certain ways…

“Very well.”

~

Ronald Weasley was dragged into the interrogation room. He was forced down into a chair, magically bound to the seat, and the blind-fold spell was lifted. He blinked rapidly at the change in lighting, and began to take stock of his surroundings.

He looked around and then straight ahead and saw a small man, most likely not more than 16 based on his stature, staring at him with wide green eyes.

“Hey, kid! I need you to help me. Please, you’ve got to help me get out of here, mate!” Ronald pleaded to the innocent-looking boy, who approached towards the redhead at a leisurely pace, allowing Ron to fully see the small form.

“Why are you here?” The green-eyed man asked.

“I was fucking kidnapped! Why the fuck does it matter? Listen, kid, this is a fucking war going on. You wouldn’t understand, just please get me out of here! I have a wife, y’know? Please-“

“This is a war, you are correct. However, don’t assume that I wouldn’t understand. I am more knowledgable about the inner workings of this battle than you would ever know.” The voice became steel, as hard as the green eyes that looked at him now. However, even still, the small man didn’t precisely paint the picture of a terror-inducing warrior.

“You will tell me what I want to know, understand? I will destroy you if not. The love of my life fights on the front lines of this battle every day, and if you dare keep any information from me that could hurt him, you will regret it.”

“Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me. Not only are you dark, but you’re also a shirt-lifter too? If I wasn’t tied up right now I could take your faggots-ass in a second. Listen, kid, you have no idea what you are getting into here, I could take you down in a fucking instant. Go run and tell your _daddy_  to get in here and talk to me like a man. No need for his little fuck-boy to do his dirty work!"

“Indeed?” Harry mused, interested at the fire that erupted in the redhead at the mention of his beloved's gender. With a wave of his hand the magical bindings released Ron; Harry jutted out his chin, an invitation to battle him as heroically as he was stating he would.

“Well? You talked such a big talk. You are untied. I even have no wand-" at this, Harry took his wand (which truly wasn't incredibly necessary in most forrays of magic, in accordance to his highly powerful core) and rolled it away from the two, into the darkness of the room. "So, what now? Will you fight me?”

Ron made a tentative step forwards to see if he could _actually_ move, and when he found that he could, he began to stalk towards his captor. With every step his anger grew at this little fucking entitled git, who was so goddamned full of himself. His pace sped up as he glided over to the fucking slimy snake, the evil-

A tall and imposing figure appeared behind the young man. The red eyes glowing, the lights hitting the serpentine-like head. The nose-slits. Fear clutched his heart, and he stopped dead in his tracks at the realization that he was staring at _Voldemort_.

Tom smirked, which appeared moreso as an angry grimace on his Voldemort glamor, glaring at the pathetic worm.

“Well, why did you stop, warrior? Fight me!” Harry’s heart was thrumming in his chest, excited at the prospect of fighting the ignorant red-head. His very face annoyed Harry, he wanted to wipe every freckle off of this asshole’s skin.

At Harry’s declaration of ‘fight me!’, however, Voldemort shook his head back and forth silently behind the shorter man, and mouthed a clear ‘ _do not_.”

Ronald’s heart began beating so fast, and he was so terrified he fainted on the spot- and quite possibly soiled his pants in the process.

~

“Babe, you wouldn’t believe it! He was so scared of me, I told him to fight me, and he just passed out! Like that!” Harry snapped his fingers, as if to prove his point. Tom looked over his mug of hot cider at his beloved, suppressing the smirk that desperately wanted to break free.

“He just fainted, dear?”

“Yes! No, really, Tom, I let him up, since he was bound, and he was approaching me- he said some horrid things by the way, very homophobic! Probably closeted himself, but that's really beside the point, though his wife is in for a shock - and as he was walking up I told him to fight me, and then his eyes got real big, and he just pissed his pants! I  _told you_ I was forboding! I must be bloody terrifying! I should help more with interrogations!”

Harry stopped his excited pacing and walked over to Tom, sliding into his lap easily, straddling the older man. Tom gingerly put his mug down on his desk and placed his hands on Harry’s upper thighs, steadying him.

“I don’t know dearest- the interrogations wouldn’t be too productive if all of our captors fainted when they saw you.”

“Can you believe that, Tom?! He really, really did!” Harry’s beaming smile was worth anything Tom would ever need to do- and to think that he just needed to silently glare at Harry’s prisoner to receive the gift that was his beloved’s smile; he would do that any day, just to see his soul so happy.

“Are you proud of me, Tom?” Harry asked softly, laying his head in the crook of Tom’s shoulder, lightly smelling the cologne on the base of his neck.

“Always, sweet. You never cease to amaze me. I had no doubts in your abilities.”

Harry smiled at that, burrowing into Tom’s body further, and Tom moved his arms upwards, to cage around Harry’s back, holding him closer. “I know it may seem silly, but I worry that I’m not worthy enough to be on this side of the war. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love my body, and how I look. And I love my position in our efforts; just sometimes, people seem so unafraid of me. And I know it's because I'm so small, y'know? And you, _you_ can just silence people with a look. I admire that. I don’t want people to think I’m unworthy or not powerful enough to be with you just because I don’t look as scary at times, y’know?”

Tom held tighter to his beloved at that, his heart hurting for his other half’s insecurities. “Well, I would say those fears are unfounded, no? Look at today, dearest. That inbred blood traitor passed out at a mere look from you. I would say you’re just as fearsome as any of my Inner Circle, dear. And I know you are just as powerful as me.” Harry gave Tom a sweet kiss then, slowly moving their lips against one another until Tom pulled back.

“And if anyone says you aren’t frightening, they obviously haven’t seen you before your morning coffee.”

Harry snorted at that, kissing Tom chastely once again before extracting himself from Tom’s lap.

“Where are you off to, dearest?” Tom asked, watching as Harry’s lithe form moved to the door of the office. He immediately missed the warmth the smaller body provided him when he was pressed flush against his chest.

“Well…I was going to see if you wanted to celebrate how terrifying I am. Maybe play some… _interrogation_ of our own, hmm?”

Tom’s eyes darkened at that, his smile crawling across his face as he stared at his fiancé.

~ _Well, daddy? Want to tie **me** up? Make **me** beg? ~ _

At the hissed parseltongue, Tom pushed away from his desk, cider forgotten completely. 

He quickly ran after Harry as the younger bolted through the halls, high pitched laughter floating back to Tom as he chased Harry to their bedroom.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! :D I hope you liked it!! If you're a reader of 'Severus is Indigo Blue', that should be updating on Saturday! (yayyy)
> 
> Please let me know what you think of this one; I had a lot of fun writing it! If you ever see any fun dialogue/OTP prompts, feel free to drop me a line to recommend them! I love these little prompts :D


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